


Echoes

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen, Sky Factory AU, minecraft au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 11:59:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13213302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: The end of the world should probably have been a bigger deal, really, when you think about it.





	Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> Sky Factory-ish AU idea based on [my ramblings here](https://vagrantblvrd.tumblr.com/post/163816439481/the-last-two-sky-factory-episodes-really-make-me) that mutated on me along the way???

The end of the world should probably have been a bigger deal, really, when you think about it. 

“Don't you think, Jeremy?” Gavin asks, because a second opinion wouldn't be amiss right now. “It's kind of weird we all just got with things afterward, isn't it?”

Jeremy grunts, and Gavin leans around him to inspect the lock that's been giving him trouble. Simple little electronic keypad, a technology that was reclaimed decades ago. The numbers on the keypad are worn down from frequent use. It should be easy enough to crack the pass-code, but Jeremy's been hacking at it for ages now. 

Gavin sighs, eyes roving around the compound they've found their way into. 

Most of the buildings are dark, but there are a few lights in the distance. Powered by the solar arrays they'd been careful to avoid on their way in earlier. No doubt under guard or wired to some form of alarm system. He can make out the edges of a sign, one that isn't rusted over like most of the ones scattered about the place.

Most likely put up by its new occupants, and that pokes at a half-forgotten memory, rumors and whispers about this place he'd heard about years and years ago. Picked up along the way, bits and pieces of legends and myths and stories salvaged from old books and recovered technology.

“Jeremy,” Gavin says, “try 'Olympus'.”

Jeremy pauses, and Gavin can imagine the frown he must have on his face before he shrugs and types the numerical equivalent in. A soft chime fills the air before the light at the top of the keypad glows a soft, inviting green, mechanism inside the door unlocking.

“Seriously?” Jeremy asks, shooting Gavin a look, and Gavin shrugs.

“You've heard the rumors, haven't you?” he asks, slipping past Jeremy to push the door open. “Compound like this at the top of the highest mountain in the area? Bunch of lunatics playing at being gods?”

The compound isn't exactly at the top of the highest mountain, so much as midway up. And they aren't playing at being gods so much as they're trying to recreate the things humanity lost when the world as everyone back then knew it ended. (Lunatics, though. That's a very apt description for the lot of them.)

There have been successes here and there. Enough that the settlements in the area have benefited from them. Bits and pieces of old technology reclaimed and adapted among the greater whole that's been lost to time and mankind's own hubris. Thinking such simple creations, inventions, would surely never be _lost_ , so why worry?

The strides that have been made since people took their first, tentative steps in the new world they found themselves in after what they've taken to calling the Calamity have been...interesting, to be certain.

Monstrous hybrids marrying old technology and comparatively primitive bits and bobs with the magic growing up through the cracks in the foundations of this new world. Wild and untamed and stronger with each passing day until it was a thing people couldn't pretend wasn't real anymore, that it didn't exist.

But among the successes, major and minor, there have also been - 

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck is _that_?”

There are a few torches on the walls offering cutting through the inky darkness, the whole thing not exactly ideal given what they're doing sneaking in here.

When Gavin looks over at Jeremy, he sees him backing away from a small, feathered _thing_.

Well, somewhat feathered in that there are a few of the pitiful little things scattered in among the naked, mottled flesh. It eyes Jeremy up and makes this sound partway between what a normal chicken might make and this horrible little groaning noise. 

Hideous really, and the singular eye staring up at Jeremy isn't doing it any favors.

“Ah,” Gavin says, and reaches over to push Jeremy's arm down, point the knife he's holding at the floor. “That's Clive.”

“...Clive,” Jeremy says, taking a step back when the creature takes an experimental peck at his foot.

Gavin watches Clive, something a little fond at the way she flaps her wings at Jeremy. Territorial little thing. Protective.

“ _Clive,_ ” Jeremy says again, accusatory as he turns scowl at Gavin. “You named it already?”

And, yes, all right. 

Gavin might have mislead Jeremy a bit when he stumbled on him in a bar in one of the settlements far below them. Might not have told him the truth about who he is, or what he was doing down there, but it's not as though Jeremy asked him really, now is it?

Didn't so much as bother with a “Hello, how are you?” when he sat himself at Gavin's table, half-drunk and cheerful with it. Babbling about the madmen at the top of the mountain and the stories about them that have spread over the years. The wonders that must be hidden away in that compound of theirs, what they would find if they just went up for a quick peek.

“Er,” Gavin says, and freezes when he hears the door shut somewhere behind them. 

Hears the sound of a sword being drawn because weapons are a tricky thing in this day and age. Things like bows and blades being by far more reliable than finicky things like guns. Less likely to backfire in spectacular ways when unpredictable magic is thrown into the mix.

“Ah,” Gavin says, and turns to see a familiar figure walking towards them with slow, measured steps.

Hears a drawled, “You forgot the fucking password for the front gate again, didn't you.”

Gavin huffs, because it's not likely he'd remember after having a few with Jeremy at the bar, and he's been away gathering resources for _weeks_. Not his fault if the paranoid bastards had Ryan create a system that changes it every so often and Gavin's mind too muddled to remember the pattern it.

“Well that's a fine way to say hello, isn't it?”

Michael snorts, stepping into a patch of light. Slight curl to his mouth when he looks at Gavin, eyebrows going up when his gaze shifts over to Jeremy.

“Who's your friend?”

Gavin grins because Jeremy is a _gem_. Bright and clever and Ryan is going to love him. They all will, really. 

“This is Jeremy,” Gavin says, patting Jeremy on the shoulder. “He's lovely, Michael. Please don't kill him.”

Jeremy stiffens under Gavin's hand. 

Goes very, very still as though he honestly thinks that would help him if Michael thought he was some sort of threat. 

Michael's watching, of course he is, and sighs as he sheathes his sword. “Did you even tell the poor guy what he was getting into when you dragged him up here?” 

Well, not in so many words, no. 

It was more of an overwhelming amusement at Jeremy's enthusiasm. His determination to see what all the hubbub was about the compound and their motley little group and the strange goings on here. Some form of agreement when Jeremy invited Gavin along on his little adventure, a quest that had taken him a long way from home.

“Er...”

“Goddammit, Gavin,” Michael says, rubbing his temples as he looks at them. “You know why we don't let people up here.”

Clive makes a sound of protest, this eerie little thing that sounds a bit like a wail.

“That,” Michael says, pointing at Clive when Jeremy flinches away from her. “That right there, that is why. Geoff and his godforsaken abominations. You remember what happened when Edgar got out?”

Gavin winces, remembering the poor little...thing Ryan had named. Part cow, part something Geoff had never come clean about because Edgar had been a misstep in his experiments. 

Ugly and misshapen and dumb as anything, but a gentle creature under it all. 

When it had become clear his lifespan would be a short one, they'd decided to let him live out his days in the pasture at the edge of the compound, but somehow he'd managed to slip past the gates. Caused a bit of a panic when some unsuspecting forager from one of the nearby settlements stumbled on him, thinking he'd contracted some kind of disease, plague.

Brought up concerns about what was going on up here that had put everyone at odds for a long, long time in spite of all the scientific evidence Geoff and Ryan put forth to soothe fears. 

The whole situation had made venturing past the compound's gates a dangerous thing for any of them for a long, long time.

“Ah,” Gavin says again, watching Jeremy watching Clive as she pecks at his foot once more, the flinch he tries to hide with two of them looking at him. “True.”

Michael sighs, shaking his head as he gestures for the two of them to follow him. “Come on, the others want to talk to you – both of you – and it's fucking late. Get a move on, assholes.”

Gavin glances at Jeremy who doesn't seem angry about the bit of misinformation on Gavin's part. More like - 

“We're going to have a talk later, buddy,” Jeremy says, more of a promise than a threat as he walks after Michael, and Gavin.

Gavin sighs and crouches down to gather Clive in his arms because Geoff will pitch a fit if he loses another chicken, and really, she's lovely.

“Well then,” Gavin says to her as he trails after the others. “That went about as well as I expected it to, now didn't it?”

Clive clucks, this odd little trilling noise that ends on a gurgle with a bit of an upward lilt to it like she's asking him if he's sure about that.

Gavin stifles a laugh as he hears Michael yelling at him to hurry the hell up because she's got a point. One thing's certain, things are definitely going to be interesting in the coming days.


End file.
